


A Birthday and a Feast

by Elennare



Category: St Clare's - Enid Blyton
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elennare/pseuds/Elennare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claudine's birthday is coming up, and the girls plan a midnight feast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday and a Feast

**Author's Note:**

> Set between "Claudine at St. Clare's" and "Fifth Formers at St. Clare's".  
> Written for the "candles" challenge at fan_flashworks Somewhat tangential use of the prompt; my train of thought was candles -> birthday cake -> birthday.

“Claudine! Claudine! Where are you? Mam’zelle wants you!” Bobby called out, bursting into the Fourth form common-room one evening.  
  
Claudine, sitting in a corner, looked up from her embroidery in surprise. “Did she say why?”  
  
Bobby shook her head. “She just told me to send you to her. You haven’t done anything naughty recently, have you?”  
  
“Maybe she’s done her French prep badly, and Mam’zelle’s going to row her,” Doris suggested teasingly, and the girls laughed. Claudine’s French prep, of course, was always perfect. In fact, Doris, who was a complete dunce at languages, often asked for her help.  
  
“I had better see what she wants, I suppose,” the little French girl said. Folding up the cushion cover she had been working on and placing it in her sewing basket, she left the room quickly.  
  
Her message delivered, Bobby sat down next to Janet and the twins, who were doing a jigsaw together. Isabel turned to her.  
  
“I say, Bobby, you don’t suppose it could be bad news for Claudine? Mam’zelle is her aunt, after all...”  
  
Bobby looked startled. “Oh, gosh, I never thought of that! I don’t think so, though. Mam’zelle didn’t seem worried at all - in fact, I’d have said she was happy if anything.”  
  
“Good news, then?” Isabel said.  
  
“We’ll have to wait until Claudine comes back,” her twin said practically. “Hie, Janet, is that the piece I’ve been looking for under your foot?”  
  
Meanwhile, Claudine had hurried to her aunt’s room, turning her deeds of the past few days over in her head. She couldn’t think of anything really bad she had done, though, and knocked on the door no wiser for her reflection.  
  
“Come in!” Mam’zelle called. “ _Ah, Claudine, ma petite. Assieds-toi_!”  
  
Claudine sat down as instructed, still wondering why she had been summoned. Her aunt wasted no time in enlightening her.  
  
“I know it is your birthday in two weeks,” she began in French, “and that the girls usually buy a cake to share with their form.”  
  
“That is so,  _ma tante_ ,” Claudine interrupted. “I have been saving my pocket-money to buy one, though it will not be as grand as some of the others - ”  
  
“Claudine! Do not interrupt me! Have you no manners?” Her aunt asked fiercely, though her eyes twinkled. “I know you do not have much pocket-money, so I thought I could give you some birthday money in advance, that you may have a fine cake.”  
  
“Oh!  _Merci beaucoup, tante Mathilde_!” Claudine exclaimed, truly delighted. “I shall buy a big cake, with icing, and cherries, and candles...”  
  
The pair talked for a little longer, then Mam’zelle sent Claudine back to her common-room. The girls looked up as she walked in, her pale face flushed with pleasure. She quickly related her news to them, and they unanimously voted Mam’zelle ‘really decent’. Then, Pat made a suggestion that electrified the form.  
  
“When’s your birthday, Claudine? Two weeks from now, did you say? Well, look here. Why don’t we have a midnight feast for it? It’s simply ages since we’ve had one. You’ll have your cake, and we’ll all bring something. What do you think?”  
  
“Won’t Mam’zelle smell a rat, though, when we don’t have the cake at tea-time that Sunday?” Hilary asked doubtfully. “She’s sure to guess we’re having a feast, and we do have French first thing on Mondays, so she won’t be best pleased about it.”  
  
The girls looked at each other sadly. Hilary was right; Mam’zelle had been a teacher long enough to guess that the girls would be having a midnight feast. Nor was she likely to be specially lenient just because it was her niece’s birthday!  
  
Claudine, however, was not going to let the idea drop so easily. “Why not have the feast on Saturday night, then? We can sleep a little later on Sundays. Also, I was born just after midnight, so it would be fitting.”  
  
“That sounds fine,” Pat agreed.  
  
“But what will Mam’zelle say about the cake?” Alison asked.  
  
“We can save a slice for my aunt; she would like it, and I think it would amuse her,” Claudine answered firmly.  
  
With that, the matter was settled, and for the next two weeks the girls were often seen walking down to town in pairs, and hurrying back with various parcels. They kept their stores in a cupboard in the form-room, since they had decided to have their feast there. There was no question of holding it in the grounds, as they had last term, for the weather had turned much too cold. In any case, the form-room was far enough from any bedrooms that they shouldn’t be disturbed if they were not too noisy.  
  
When Saturday arrived, more than one mistress looked suspiciously at the excited fourth formers. Still, it was a holiday after a week of lessons, and there was a birthday in the form the next day, so the teachers simply put it down to that. Certainly, no-one suspected that there was a midnight feast planned, and the girls were careful not to talk loudly about it. Luckily, there was dancing for the whole school in the gym that afternoon - Miss Theobald had decided they must have some exercise, and it was snowing far too much for walks - so they were able to work off their high spirits. And if they were strangely unprotesting about being sent to bed at the usual time, well, they must simply be tired after their exertions.  
  
Alarm clocks were set in both dormies for half-past eleven, and the girls tried to settle, although they were all sure they wouldn’t sleep a wink! They were more tired than they realised, however, and soon not a single girl was awake. But they all woke quickly when the alarms went off and, hurriedly donning dressing gowns, made their way down to the common room.  
  
What a feast they had! Bread and butter, tins of pineapple, tins of sardines, chocolate, potted meat, biscuits, marmalade... Carlotta had remembered Claudine’s love of cherries, and bought a fine amount. But the centrepiece, of course, was the birthday cake. They lit the candles early, and enjoyed eating by their soft light. Then, once everything else was finished, they gathered round and sang a soft “ _Joyeux Anniversaire_ ” to Claudine, who managed to blow out the candles in one breath.  
  
“Lucky you! Your wish will come true!” whispered Gladys. “What did you wish for?”  
  
“Ah, if I told you, then it would not come true,” the birthday girl replied, as she cut the cake and handed slices around.  
  
They were careful to save a slice for Mam’zelle, and Claudine took it to her the next morning before breakfast. Her aunt looked at her in astonishment.  
  
“Claudine! Is this your birthday cake? Have you had cake before breakfast, you naughty girls?”  
  
“Not exactly,” Claudine replied, with her most innocent look. All the mistresses knew that look only too well by now. The more innocent Claudine looked, the more likely she was being very naughty indeed.  
  
“Not exactly? Whatever do you mean - Ah!  _Méchantes filles_! You have had a midnight feast, have you not?”  
  
“Well - I cannot tell you,  _ma tante_ , for that would be sneaking, and these so-honourable English girls, they would not like it,” Claudine answered demurely. “All I will say is that as you remember, I was born at midnight. But it is Sunday, so if we were tired, it would not matter - and see, I have saved you a slice of my beautiful cake, that I am so grateful to you for, so you will not be angry and scold us, will you?”  
  
Mam’zelle burst out laughing at the end of this speech. “No, _ma petite_ , I will not scold you,” she said at length. “It is not so very bad a thing you have done, after all, and it was kind of you to save cake for your old aunt. Come to my room after breakfast, and I will give you your present. Run along now! I do not wish to have you scolded for tardiness on your birthday!”  
  
The girl did not need warning twice, and left the room quickly. As she was going along the corridor, however, her aunt called after her. “ _Joyeux Anniversaire, Claudine!_ ”


End file.
